


Bonus round 3 - fill 2

by oyogihodai (alder_knight)



Series: SASO 2016 fills [9]
Category: Free!
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, Language of Flowers, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Not Beta Read, To Be Edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 13:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7363819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alder_knight/pseuds/oyogihodai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the <a href="http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/14215.html?thread=5899655#cmt5899655">prompt</a>:</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Package: a floral delivery with a thick envelope attached<br/>To: Haru ♡<br/>From: Rin<br/>Note: Happy Birthday ♡</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Bonus round 3 - fill 2

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a day late, but happy birthday, nanase-kun

Haruka turned the key in his apartment door and swung it open. A wall of stifling hot air hit him in the face. He had closed his windows against the morning rain when he left, but the clouds had burned off and the day had warmed up hot and steamy. Now the little apartment was sweltering. Less than a week from the solstice, summer had hit Tokyo hard.

He took his time setting things in order: opening windows, turning on the fan, putting away his practice gear and groceries. He washed his hands and was taking out a pan to start cooking lunch when his doorbell buzzed.

Haruka paused. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He thought back to whether he had made any online purchases recently, but nothing came to mind. Satisfied that it was probably no one important, he set the pan on the stove and reached for a cutting board.

The door buzzed again.

With a frown of irritation, Haruka reconsidered. The door wasn’t locked, which anyone who knew him closely would know meant he was home. Was it a salesperson? Realizing that it was almost the end of the month and that it might be a utility or his landlady, Haruka sighed, set down the cutting board, and went to answer the door.

“Nanase Haruka?” chirped the delivery service worker who waited outside his apartment. She was carrying a rectangular cardboard parcel, about the size of two shoeboxes laid end to end.

Haruka nodded warily.

“Sign, please!” She held out a digital pad.

Haruka took the stylus and wrote his name, and the woman handed him the box. It wasn’t very heavy.

“Thank you!” she said with a bow, and she turned down the open-air walkway and descended the stairs. Puzzled, Haruka took the box into the apartment with him and closed the door again.

He set the box on his small table and studied it. Still mystified as to its contents, he took a knife from the knife block, sliced the packing tape, and pulled back the flaps. 

The box was full of flowers.

***

Haruka sat on the couch, rereading the card that had come in the box. It had a picture of the Sydney opera house on the front, and a note inside.

_Haru,_  
_Happy birthday. Sydney misses you and so do I. I hope these flowers inspire you. You sure inspire me._  
_Have I embarrassed you yet? Good. I’m gonna kick your ass when we race again at the meet in July._

_Love,_  
_Rin_

_PS: Check the book._

Along with the card, Rin had enclosed a gift card to Sekaido, a large store which sold art supplies a short train ride from the pool where Haruka’s team practiced, and a little booklet labeled “Hanakotoba” - flower language.

“Check the book,” the card said. Haruka looked at the jewel-tone bouquet now spilling out of the glass vase on his table, green and purple and pink and blue, and he flipped open the booklet to “hydrangea.”

“ _Hydrangeas represent a thankfulness to another, a sense of gratitude_ ,” it said. “ _They are flowers for a deepening relationship between two people_.”

Haruka felt his cheeks coloring. He thumbed through the pages again.

Forget-me-nots were for shared memories, and loyalty through separation. Pale pink roses spoke of admiration. Haruka buried his face in his hands and slid down the sofa.

“Rin,” he groaned aloud, “you’re too romantic.”

He flopped onto his side and looked at the condensation beading on the glass of the vase. It made him think of Rin, fresh out of the pool or bath or shower, still dripping. His stomach growled. With a sigh, Haruka sat up. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. There were messages from teammates, his parents, and Makoto, all wishing him a happy birthday, and a few offering to meet up. He opened his camera, took a photo of the vase, drew a little heart shape on it, and sent it to Rin. Then he stood up, pocketed his phone and the gift card, and went back to preparing his lunch, stealing glances over his shoulder at the bouquet while he cooked. He could smell it from across the apartment. It filled the humid air with sweetness.

Sekaido was air-conditioned. Maybe he would stop by after his evening practice.

***

Rin turned the key to his mail slot, more out of habit than expectation of finding anything inside, and was surprised when his hand closed around a piece of card stock. He pulled it out and turned it over to look at it.

On the front was a beautiful watercolor painting of a floral still-life, a vase of flowers meticulously rendered in rich emerald and amethyst and sapphire hues. Rin’s eyes widened involuntarily, and he flipped it over to read the back, which was pasted with Japanese postage.

_Rin,_  
_You’re too sentimental. I miss you too though. Thank you for the gift. I haven’t had watercolors since high school._  
_Bested my time again at practice on Tuesday. We’ll see whose ass gets kicked when you’re back._

_Love_ ,  
_Haru_

Rin felt a tightness in his throat that was swiftly expelled with a shout of laughter by the end of the note. He smiled, locked his mailbox, and went back into his Sydney apartment to tape the postcard up next to his desk.

July’s Tokyo meet couldn’t come soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> they look a lot like [this](http://oyogihodai.tumblr.com/post/146780559354/hydrangea-mixed-bouquet-from-flowers-to-tokyo), if you're curious.  
>   
> I'm so bad at fluff why do I keep doing this to myself and the world whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy *face-keyboard*


End file.
